The bay where we stayed |
After spending one
week in the dessert, we were in need of civilization, proper food, a shower,
internet and so on. In the McDonalds at Fernley, the closest town to Black Rock
City, we heard a girl say: “I am so happy to see ice again!”. I could relate 100
percent to that! It felt awesome to be back in the real world. We spend the
first day cleansing the car. That dust was everywhere, and wasn’t that easy to
remove. Water doesn’t do the trick. What it needs is a good wash with vinegar
to get the playa dust of. Unfortunately, the Burning Man wasn’t such a good
experience for the car as it was for ourselves. The noises got louder and
weirder. We decided to let a mechanic have a look at it. And that’s what we
basically did, after we spend our first days chilling literally the whole day
at Starbucks. It is remarkable how good that felt after spending one week in
the dessert.
At Carson City we let
a mechanic take a look at our Ford Explorer. The repair of it would cost up to
2000 dollar, which basically is enough money to buy a new car. So we decided
not to repair it and try our luck, heading towards Mexico. The repair is probably
cheaper in Mexico anyways. The next days were all pretty much alike. During the
day I had to work on an assignment for the university and by night we tried
driving. The steering got worse every minute, the howling as well as the
whistling did their part in the annoying noise orchestra and sometimes, if we
got lucky, the car started to smell like burned rubber. Once, we had to pull
off the highway after only 15 minutes. It was incredible demotivating. Even the
original plan, visiting San Francisco, became victim to the spontaneous
fluctuations of the car, so we decided to head straight to Mexico.
On the 12th
of September we finally arrived at the border. Entering Mexico turns out to be
quite easy. So easy that we did not even got a “tourist card”. In Tijuana, we
then realized that the only place where you normally get this certificate was
closed. Now it gets ridiculous. To get this piece of paper, we had to go back
to the states and reenter Mexico, on foot. We waited in the “USA-entering” line
for several hours. Sometimes there wasn’t even an officer at the counter for
foreigner line. They just ignored that fact for nearly an hour. Both country’s
seemingly played a game of incompetency against each other and so far they were
both winning.
After this nerve
racking procedure we left the border city, heading for a backpacker hostel. Ian
and his daughter Molly are running this place. With a direct view on the beach
we had the entire third floor of the house for ourselves, including a huge
porch.
blue house = hostel |
finally in the sea after nearly a year |
view from our porch |
Ian referred us to a “bush” mechanic named Poncho, who has his “garage”
in the village “La Misión”, a ten minute drive from the hostel. He wasn’t able
to speak English, so we could only translate through Ian.
the perfect chaos |
In the end he was able
to get a new differential from his brother and fixed the car for 150 dollars
(in the states it would have cost nearly 2000). However, we didn’t get far
after we tried hitting the road again. The car ran hot and we had to stop at
the side of the road. A towing truck brought us back to La Misión, where we
parked the car in the backyard of the guy that owns a tire change shop.
We
figured that we needed new tires, so the differential can run smoothly. A guy
we met at the beach took us to a “cousin” of him to Ensenada. We ended up
buying four brand new tires due to the popularity of huge tires in this
country. Even though it was quite cheap compared to the prices in the states, I
had a bad feeling investing that much money in the car, especially not knowing
whether Poncho did a proper job. After the tires were put on the Mexican way,
we made a test drive – still running hot.
tire change |
Poncho took another look at and after
another day of work it was finally good to go. In totally we spend one whole
week at the hostel. All the problems and uncertainties with the car were quite
annoying, but I had still a good time. Admittedly, there was nothing much to do
but we had a few interesting encounters, especially because the hostel also
offered “ibogain-treatment” to addicts. A patient stayed there for a couple of
days giving quite interesting insights in his situation. We also went with
Molly on the mountain, to track and watch a herd of wild horses.
Brum Brum |
old pig slaughter house |
It wasn’t the most exciting
time, but nevertheless quite helpful as well as instructive. Often on travels
you just pass through city`s or villages, not really getting any insights in
the day to day live. Our involuntary long stay gave us plenty of those
possibilities. Especially, the small, authentic village “La Missión” was worth
the while.
store with the most random sortiment ever |
the electricity pylons always made a calming sound |
Our last mission
before heading towards the east part of the Baja California was a trip to the “quicksand-city”
Tijuana. We said our goodbyes to the hostel crew as well as my good friend
Victor. At Tijuana we needed an import permit for our car, which we require
when we take the ferry to the mainland of Mexico. Neither in the internet, nor
at other government establishments there was any information about the permit
or even the place where to get it. In the end, it took us 7 hours to get
through to the office. 7 nerve wrecking hours. There are literally no words for
the bureaucratic “system” of Mexico.
Right now we are in La
Paz and booked a ferry for this evening, which will take us to the mainland of
Mexico. We only have five days left to get to Mexico City, where my return
flight to Germany depart on Tuesday.
In my next post I will
describe the more beautiful parts of the Baja California.
Cheers for reading!
Vince